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by butterfly_wings



Series: The Life Cycle of a God [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Asahi is love, Daichi is fall, Gen, Gods AU, Kiyoko is the goddess of fate, Nishinoya is storms, Yahaba-centric, and kyoutani is death!, this is kinda meta haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26734162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterfly_wings/pseuds/butterfly_wings
Summary: Yahaba is the god of stories, and he cares very much about this one.Too bad it's over, though (...unless?).for haikyuu! week day 6: beginnings and endings
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru/Sugawara Koushi, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: The Life Cycle of a God [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945327
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28
Collections: Tumblr Haikyuu!! Week 2020





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**Author's Note:**

> this is a companion piece to [Replacing a God](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26648857), so I'd recommend reading that for context. or not, u don't have to listen to me.

Yahaba is the god of stories. His realm is nebulous, a concept, something looser than fate but more powerful than memory. He is both real and not; his stories are both falsehoods and truths. He knows more than he should, yet he cannot see the ends in the way Fate can. He is a god; more importantly, he is a storyteller.

And most importantly, he cares very, very much about the gods involved in this one.

“They’re technically characters, if you’re looking at it like a story,” Kiyoko, the goddess of Fate, reminds him.

“The ending is still bullshit,” Yahaba spits out in lieu of a response.

It’s not that he disrespects Kiyoko. Far from it. It’s just that he refuses to believe that Iwaizumi, Oikawa, and Suga were always destined to…well, die.

They’re gods. Gods don’t die.

“That’s simply how their story played out,” Kiyoko tells him, knitting away as if Yahaba hadn’t said anything. “There were other paths, other outcomes had they chosen different things. But they ended up with that ending.”

“That’s not fair!” Yahaba is aware that he is essentially throwing a temper tantrum, but he doesn’t care. “Oikawa doesn’t deserve this!”

Kiyoko looks at her knitting. There’s a beautiful tapestry of colors, blended in pink and aqua and silvery white, that represents the tragic end of three gods in her lap. “Spring was my friend too, you know,” she says softly.

“His name was Suga,” Yahaba spits out. He spins around. “I’m going to fix this. There’s no way their story can be over just like that.”

“Be careful,” Kiyoko tells him. “They walked into that end on their own, you know.”

Yahaba ignores her. He can’t believe that she would just doom his friends like that.

Weren’t they her friends too?

“How are Kageyama and Yachi?” Yahaba asks. Kyoutani just shrugs. He’s doing something: sorting souls, probably. Kyoutani would protest and say that he was guiding them (so would Iwaizumi). Yahaba still isn’t sure what being death entails, and he’s watched Kyoutani constantly since Iwaizumi hung up his cloak and gave up on immortality. As far as he can tell, Kyoutani is just…comforting them.

“Kageyama won’t stop freezing,” Kyoutani grunts after a moment of silence. “Every time I visit, he’s getting colder and colder. As for Yachi…Yamaguchi and Tsukishima still won’t let me see her.”

“So she’s had no progress,” Yahaba surmises. Great. They need Kageyama and Yachi to figure out their powers, and fast, or the earth will be doomed come winter.

“We’re screwed,” Kyoutani says, voicing Yahaba’s fears. “You know how the story ends, don’t you? What’s going to happen to them?”

Yahaba shrugs. “I don’t know how the story ends,” he corrects. “I just know when it’s over.”

“Is it over?” Kyoutani asks.

“Iwaizumi’s, Oikawa’s, and Suga’s is,” Yahaba says. “So, yes, it’s over.”

Kyoutani scowls and folds his arms across his chest. He looks mad, Yahaba thinks.

He always looks mad, these days.

Yahaba sighs. “Kyoutani, I can’t control it. I didn’t wake up and say, ‘Wouldn’t it be funny to kill off three of my friends?’ and then write the ending. They…just got unlucky.”

“I know.” Kyoutani swirls his cloak around him. “I’m going to earth. I should…check on Bokuto. Let him know what happened with Iwaizumi.”

Yahaba winces. Bokuto’s story is far from a happy one, and Yahaba feels guilty every time someone brings up Life and his doomed romance with Akaashi. It’s not like he cursed Bokuto to that particular story; Bokuto just happened to wander into the threads of Fate and before anyone could stop it, he’d set in motion a failed love story.

That doesn’t stop Yahaba from feeling bad about it, though.

He thinks that he might understand Kiyoko’s quiet composure even in the face of having lost Suga. That was just how the story played out, after all. The sooner they were able to accept it, the better.

Doesn’t make it any easier to accept, though.

Kyoutani vanishes, and Yahaba looks around Death’s realm. There’s nothing here for him. He sighs and makes his exit.

Every story has a beginning, a middle, and an end. Yahaba knows that much. Right now, they’ve finished the story between Spring, Winter, and Death. Life (oddly) is still in the beginning of his story (although it feels like he’s been stuck there for far longer than he should have been). The Calamity twins help fashion stories but do not have one of their own. Kiyoko can see potential endings and beginnings and everything in-between for all the stories. Frost and Dew’s stories are over; they ended when they became full-fledged seasons.

Wait.

Kyoutani had said that both Kageyama and Yachi were struggling with their new powers. Kageyama couldn’t control himself. Yachi couldn’t feel anything. The seasons were struggling.

Yahaba frowns. Were they proper seasons yet, if they couldn’t control themselves? Everyone acted like they were, but there was always a chance that they weren’t.

There’s only one other god besides Kiyoko who might have an answer to that, and Yahaba doesn’t really feel like seeing Kiyoko right now.

Fall sleeps under a tree on the earth, his eyes closed, sunlight filtering through green leaves onto his face.

“Daichi,” Yahaba says loudly. “Sawamura. Wake up.”

“Yahaba?” Daichi asks. He keeps his eyes closed, though. “What can I do for you?”

Yahaba likes the seasons. He thought Oikawa was amazing and powerful; Hinata is always a delight to be around; Suga was simultaneously the sweetest and most mischievous god Yahaba had ever known; Daichi is reliable and smart.

“Are Kageyama and Yachi proper seasons?” he asks.

Daichi opens his eyes and sits up, shaking off a few leaves that cling to him. “Kageyama is. Sort of. He has full access to his powers; he just needs to learn how to use them. Yachi…I don’t know why she can’t access her powers.”

“So, they’re not proper seasons,” Yahaba says.

“Kageyama is,” Daichi says, voice sharp with warning. “He has the abilities. He could bring Winter to the earth right now, if he wanted.”

“But Yachi isn’t.” This is the important part. As long as one of them can’t fulfill their role, then there’s still hope. There’s still…room, for edits.

Daichi sighs. “Yahaba, what are you getting at? They’re the seasons now. Oikawa and Spring are gone.” Yahaba doesn’t miss the way Daichi’s voice catches as he says Spring, like he’s very carefully avoiding the reality. 

Gods weren’t supposed to die, so why had Suga?

“If Kageyama and Yachi aren’t full-fledged seasons, then the story isn’t over,” Yahaba explains. “Which means that we can give it a proper ending.”

“You said it was over,” Daichi says, frowning at him. “You said that Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Suga’s stories were finished.”

“We can start a new one,” Yahaba says, the gears in his head turning. “We can force it open. We can add another part. As long as the ending is imperfect, there’s still room.” He grins. “Loose ends means that we can change things.”

Daichi frowns. “Aren’t you tempting Fate?”

Yahaba shrugs. “Spring was Fate’s friend too.”

Daichi closes his eyes and flops back onto the earth. “If I’m being honest, I’m not sure Kageyama and Yachi are ready to be seasons.”

Yahaba grins. “Good. That means we have some room for edits.”

He just needs to make sure that the three (dead) gods weren’t being punished for some unspoken deed, now.

“What do you want?” Nishinoya Yuu, god of thunderstorms, snaps when Yahaba enters Asahi’s realm. “Get out.”

Out of all the gods, Yahaba thinks, Nishinoya took the loss of Spring the hardest. A storm had shaken the heavens the day Spring first fell, as Nishinoya had raged for hours.

“I knew I couldn’t trust Winter with him,” Noya had wailed, thunder cracking across the sky as he screamed.

“I should have paid more attention,” he had cried.

(He did not see how Oikawa held onto Suga’s body and screamed until his vocal cords bled. Instead, Nishinoya had raged and raged until he ran out of energy. It was Kageyama who found him, hot tears streaking down his face, and it was Kageyama who brought him to Asahi, who comforted the storm god through it all.) 

Ironic that Nishinoya was the most angered about it, because Winter and Death were the ones who died for it.

But, Yahaba supposes, Winter and Death gave up their godhood. The storm did not.

“I just want to talk to Asahi,” Yahaba says. “It’s about Iwaizumi, Oikawa, and Suga.”

“You said their story was over.” Nishinoya is glaring at him, and the air is rife with electricity. “Asahi might forgive you, but I don’t.” His gaze is cold. “I won’t.”

“What if I said I was wrong?” Yahaba asks.

Nishinoya’s eyes widen. “You’re the god of stories. Shouldn’t you know when they’re over?”

“I…might have been looking at it the wrong way,” Yahaba admits.

Nishinoya’s gaze is cold as he stares Yahaba down. Static crackles around him, and Yahaba waits for Nishinoya to make a decision.

“You better not be lying,” Nishinoya says finally, and he turns around. “Come on.”

“There wasn’t anything forbidden about their love, right?” Yahaba asks Asahi. They’re sitting at a table, a small notebook detailing how Spring fell for both Death and Winter lying in between them. Nishinoya leans against the wall, glaring at nothing and everything.

“No,” Asahi says. “It was a very normal, romantic affair.”

“That’s what I thought,” Yahaba says. He shuts the notebook. Apparently Suga was the one who had relayed his version of things to Asahi, and Asahi had written them down. It feels weird to be looking at his thoughts.

Suga was the one Yahaba was the least close with, out of the trio. Yahaba doesn’t want to invade.

“So, they don’t need to suffer for anything,” Yahaba continues.

Asahi looks at the closed journal. “Are you…you’re going to try and fix it.”

“I can’t fix it,” Yahaba says. “But if the story isn’t over, then I can start another chapter.”

Asahi frowns. “You said it was over.”

“I was looking at it the wrong way,” Yahaba replies.

“It wouldn’t be a love story, then,” Asahi says.

“That doesn’t matter,” Yahaba says. “As long as it’s unfinished, I can make it start over. Continue it. Whatever needs to be done.”

“I can’t help you if it’s not a love story,” Asahi tells him.

“But love’s involved,” Yahaba reminds him. “You can help. Please.”

Asahi looks at the notebook.

“Will it work?” Asahi asks, his voice soft.

Yahaba shrugs. “We won’t know until we try.”

Asahi looks away and rubs the back of his neck. Yahaba sits in silence and waits for him to make his decision.

He knows that he’s asking a lot of them. The wounds are fresh, and he was the one who had felt their stories end. He had told them it was over.

But he wasn’t listening properly. There are whisperings of more, more, more all around him. There are countless untold stories bubbling in the heavens. Yahaba just has to give them a chance to start.

And this is one that needs a push.

Nishinoya pushes himself off the wall and walks over to Asahi. He drapes himself over him, wrapping his arms around Asahi’s neck and resting his chin on Asahi’s head.

“If it doesn’t work, I’ll destroy your realm,” he declares, looking Yahaba straight in the eyes.

Yahaba thinks of his books and winces at the idea of unleashing storm in there. “Please don’t. I’m still not sure how to fix everything. This is just a guess.”

Nishinoya rolls his eyes. “You’ll need more characters, won’t you? It’s no longer just about Iwaizumi, Suga, and Oikawa. It’s about Kyoutani and Kageyama and Yachi too.”

Yahaba gasps. “That’s it,” he exclaims. “It’s about them.”

Asahi frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Yahaba cries. “I’m so stupid. If one of them wasn’t certain in their roles, then that meant the story wasn’t over. But Iwaizumi, Oikawa, and Suga are dead. Their story _is_ finished. But the whole story…that one’s barely beginning.” He rises to his feet. “I need…I need to fix this. I can open it back up, force the gods to let the story begin once more.” He grins. “I can start it.”

“You better,” Nishinoya says.

“I’ll help you,” Asahi promises. “I don’t know how much good I’ll be, but I can try.”

“Thanks.” Yahaba can’t stop the maniacal grin spreading across his face. “I have a god to visit.”

Here’s the thing, Yahaba reasons with himself as he enters Death’s realm once more. It’s not that the story was over; it was just that it was latent. It either hadn’t started, or it hadn’t ended; whichever option he chose simply referred to a different way of looking at it. But it was part of something much, much bigger, and Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Suga were a small piece of the actual story.

He stops when he sees Kyoutani, though. Kyoutani looks exhausted, pale and haggard, as if he’d fade from existence if he kept going. Death’s realm, in comparison, is as efficient as Yahaba’s ever seen it.

He doesn’t even know the specifics of Death’s realm, just that it’s efficient.

“Don’t you get tired?” he asks Kyoutani softly.

Kyoutani doesn’t even look at him, just focuses his attention on the child’s soul in his arms. “I have to keep this place running until Iwaizumi gets back. That’s my job.” His voice come out rougher than Yahaba remembers.

Yahaba sighs. “But you’re new to this, aren’t you?”

Kyoutani still won’t look at him. Instead, he sends the child toddling off to her grandmother’s soul before directing them somewhere. “Unlike Kageyama and Yachi, I was already working with Death. A guardian of Death, I suppose. He taught me what to do.”

“I see.” Yahaba smiles, content to watch Kyoutani work for a while. They sit in silence, Kyoutani guiding souls, Yahaba trying best how to say this.

“The story isn’t over,” Yahaba tells him after the silence has dragged on for too long.

Kyoutani looks up at that (finally). His eyes are wide and he whispers, “It’s not?”

Yahaba grins. His next words need to be imbued with power, this time. If he’s going to do this, he’s going to do this right. “I decide when the story’s over,” Yahaba declares, and he feels pages turning and the stirring of beginnings under his skin as he says. He takes a breath, lifts his chin, and prepares for his next line. He can do this. “And it’s not finished yet.” 

The heavens shift, an imperceptible shake that only those taught to listen to the stirrings of fate and chance would feel. Kiyoko felt it; Tendou and Ennoshita were probably aware of it as well, and Yahaba knows that he felt it. He feels the way Iwaizumi, Oikawa, and Suga’s souls collectively sigh with relief; he feels the way Kiyoko picks up her knitting once more; he feels the way a book falls from his shelf, a blank page lying in wait for the story to begin.

“I promise,” he says softly, reaching out to take Kyoutani’s hands. He squeezes them gently. “It’s not over.”

Kyoutani finally looks at him, tears welling in his eyes, and squeezes his hands back. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Yahaba lets Kyoutani cry. He holds Kyoutani’s hands the whole time.

“You know that you’ve made yourself a character, right?” Kiyoko asks him when he finally visits her again. 

“Huh?” Yahaba asks. He meant to apologize for being harsh with her last time he visited, but all thoughts of that leave his head as Kiyoko tells him that he’s made himself a character.

Kiyoko smiles. She picks up a skein of yarn, colored peachy white with soft sparkles woven into it.

“This represents you,” she says calmly. “I was afraid that I wouldn’t get to use it.”

Yahaba stares at her. “What?”

Kiyoko laughs then, a delicate sound that echoes around her room. “I couldn’t tell you that you had to decide if the story would continue or not,” she explains. “That was up to you. But, if you chose to continue it…” She holds up the yarn. “More characters, right?”

“You knew,” Yahaba says, realization dawning on him. “You knew.”

Kiyoko nods. “I did. I didn’t have to respond to your call, you know. But you had to make it first.”

Yahaba grins. “The story isn’t over.”

"Of course not,” Kiyoko says. She smiles. “In fact, I’d say it’s just beginning.”

**Author's Note:**

> :D i am excited i made this a proper series and it's gonna be funnnnnnn :D 
> 
> anyways!! yahaba!! he's doing his best! i made him a story god and promptly had too much fun playing around with that concept!! we are dangerously close to breaking the fourth wall! 
> 
> there's gonna be like. at least one more one-shot before i work on the whole "let's resolve the iwaoisuga being dead/not gods anymore" thing, if ur curious~ 
> 
> i don't have much else to say but uhhh lmk if u enjoyed it!! 
> 
> also the rest of haikyuu week stuff can be found [here](https://haikyuuweek2020.tumblr.com/) and u can come yell at me on my [tumblr!](https://conartisthaiji.tumblr.com/)


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